Page 63 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“Oh,” Sebastian breathed. The story was becoming clearer.
“Yes,” Aunt repeated. “And so, when she heard of what had happened, and how her nephew had been left without recompense for his investments, she cursed the line of the Marquess. She cursed the Thornton family, saying that our line will wither. She cursed us with our family dying out, Sebastian. With never having heirs, or only one, or with death and suffering in childbirth. Her curse will stand until there are no Thorntons left on this green earth.” Her voice was low.
“No,” Sebastian breathed.
He stared at his aunt. He had not realized that his fist was clenched in horror. It was a daunting tale, a frightening one. His aunt cleared her throat.
“I need you to do something for me, Sebastian.”
“Anything that I can,” Sebastian answered. He gazed at her, wishing beyond anything he could think of that she knew some remedy.
“I need you to protect your Lady Glenfield,” she said gently. “She is a good soul. A kind soul. She has a gracious heart and I want no harm to come to her.”
“Yes, Aunt,” Sebastian said at once. “Please tell me—I will do whatever you ask. Please tell me you have some way to protect her.”
“Good,” Aunt Tessa said softly. “I have something that can help.”
“What is it?” Sebastian demanded, straightening up in the chair. It was almost impossible to believe that a remedy to the curse existed. If his aunt’s story was even half true, it sounded like the line really was cursed, and that the curse was there without mitigation.
“I have something,” his aunt said, standing and going to the writing-desk in the corner. “I have felt moved to give it to you for weeks. I believe it is a means of countering the curse.”
She took a small bundle, cloth-wrapped, that fitted neatly into the palm of her hand, out from the writing-case. She brought it to him.
“What is this?” Sebastian asked. “May I open it?”
She nodded. He did so. He frowned. It contained a small newspaper article, the corners yellowing with age, the ink pale blue and fading, the typesetting bigger and clumsier than newspapers he was used to seeing.
“I don’t know why, but I think it will help,” his aunt saidfirmly. She pressed it into his hand. “Please, keep it. I believe it will work as a talisman, a sort of charm to protect Eleanor. I don’t understand it myself,” she added, folding his fingers over it.
Sebastian looked down at his furled hand. He could feel the tiny, folded piece of paper in its cloth wrapping, resting like a feather against his fingers. He looked up at his aunt, feeling his heart fill with warmth and appreciation. She was a dear soul. She was doing her best to protect Eleanor, which was his own heart’s deepest desire. He gazed up at his aunt, feeling grateful in a way he could not express.
“Thank you, Aunt,” he said softly. “I promise I will give it to her. I promise to do everything I can to keep her safe.”
“Good, Bastien. I know that you will do your best.”
Sebastian closed his hand tightly around the little talisman and thrust it deep into his pocket, more grateful than he could say that he had something to protect Eleanor.
Chapter 24
The evening was dark, the sky low with clouds, the dusk settling fast over the trees around the estate. Eleanor sat in the wingback chair in the drawing room by the window, staring out at the darkening night.
“My lady? Should I light the lamps now?” the butler asked, startling her as he appeared in the doorway.
“Please do.” Eleanor inclined her head in permission.
“Very good, my lady. Should I stoke the fire?”
“Please do,” Eleanor repeated.
The butler crossed into the room and stoked the fire, making the bright flames flare up and cast a warm glow across the silk hearthrug. Eleanor watched them briefly, then stared out into the darkening night outside. It suited her mood.
The butler lit the lamps on the mantelpiece and in the corner near the bookshelves, then went into the hallway and began to light the lamps that were bracketed to the wall. Eleanor stared up at the mantelpiece, not really seeing the flickering lamps or the porcelain figurines there. She could not stop thinking about Sebastian.
“Miss Eleanor?”
She blinked, looking up as the Marquess came to the door. She swallowed hard, trying to hide her distress from him. He was still far from fully healthy, and she did not want to put needless stress on his growing strength.
“Lord Ramsgate,” she greeted him as warmly as she could. “Is aught the matter?”
